Chapter 31
LARK
Idodged around people, aiming for the back of the man I saw hurrying out of the casino floor.
It was him.
This is the man who’d murdered my parents. The man who’d change the direction of my entire life.
David Thomas Dean.
Such an ordinary, boring name for someone so evil.
I raced out into the marble-lined corridor filled with its expensive shops. There were men and women holding luxury shopping bags, looking in the windows.
Where was he?
“Lark!” Bastian wasn’t far behind me, but I didn’t look back.
I couldn’t lose this asshole.
There.
I caught a glimpse of the man disappearing up an escalator to the upper level. I ran, pumping my arms and legs. Several shoppers dodged out of my way. I took the escalator two steps at a time, and bumped into some women who gasped.
“Watch out,” one snapped.
“Sorry.” I leaped off the top. A quick glance back, and I saw Bastian running up the stairs beside the escalators.
One part of me wanted to admire the way he moved. The other part of me didn’t want to lose my quarry.
I scanned around. Up here, the walls were dark gray with bronze accents, and the floor was plush carpet with a bronze design that looked like molten metal. There were multiple doors leading to event spaces and conference rooms. I saw Dean sauntering through the double doors of the ballroom.
I raced across the space and paused. I knew better than to blunder in unprepared. I slipped a hand to my belt and pulled out a knife. It felt so good to have it in my hand.
After a steadying breath, I stepped inside.
The ballroom lights were on low. There was nobody in sight, just rows and rows of round, black tables.
I could see that someone was setting up for an event.
There were bronze pyramids as centerpieces on the tables.
They were covered with engraved hieroglyphs, so I guessed this was for the upcoming show opening.
Where are you? My heartbeat was a steady thump in my head. I moved to the left.
Quickly and quietly, I moved through the tables. This asshole was a killer, but not an assassin. He cornered innocent people in their own homes. I was trained. I’d taken down some of the world’s most dangerous people.
I saw one corner of the ballroom was cordoned off for maintenance. There was a ladder, and some plastic sheets hanging down from the ceiling. I saw an elegant sign apologizing for the inconvenience and warning not to enter.
Pushing the plastic aside, I slipped through the gap. There was another ladder and some tools. The scent of fresh paint hit me. Someone had been working one of the grand chandeliers hanging overhead.
I scanned for my target. Come out, you coward.
“I’ve wanted to meet you face-to-face for so long,” a male voice said.
I spun. I saw a shadow moving past another sheet of plastic.
I shoved it aside. Nothing.
“Then stop playing games,” I snapped.
Low male laughter behind me. I pivoted.
He stood directly on the other side of a sheet of plastic, his image blurred. I could tell he was watching me.
I felt a faint shiver. He stared at me intently, like I was some strange specimen.
“Ed talked about you. About how smart and brilliant you were.”
My jaw tightened. “Strange, he never once mentioned you.”
“Really?” I heard something in his voice. “You were his precious Lark. You and Thorne. His best creations.”
Now, I knew what I heard in his voice. Envy. “And you weren’t good enough. From what I hear, you were a mediocre agent.”
“I’m an artist. I surpassed Ed.”
“You’re a common serial killer, Dean.”
“Ah, you do know my name.”
“Bastian recognized you. I know you target innocent people who can’t defend themselves. There’s no skill in that.”
“I target the na?ve. The clueless.” His voice rose. “Those with no idea how close danger lurks.” He cocked his head. “I give their lives brilliance. Like I did for your parents.”
My heart went into overdrive. “Why? Why did you kill them?”
He shrugged. “I got paid. They were my first kill. A foreign nation contacted me and wanted your father’s project stopped.
I was sick of working in drudgery for the CIA.
There were so many fucking rules and I was so fucking invisible.
Ed hadn’t picked me for his special, little crew.
Then, I killed your parents, and I found my true calling. ”
My heart twisted.
“I didn’t know you were there.” He shrugged. “It would have made no difference, except if I’d known, you’d be dead too.”
“And Ed?” My voice was hollow. “Did he help you kill them.”
The man laughed. “Oh no. He was horrified, at first. But I finally got his attention. He saw something in my work. He’d never noticed me before, but he noticed me that night.” A low chuckle. “I think he was intrigued.”
“No, he was a patriot.”
“Yes, but we can be different things all at once. No one is black and white. You must know that better than anyone. When I reached out to him again, he was tired of all the sacrifices, for so little return. For a while, training Thorne, then raising you, fulfilled him. But then the emptiness took over. Do you feel the emptiness, Lark?”
“No.”
He chuckled. “I think you do. I approached Ed, and he finally joined me. Our first kill…I think it was the first time he’d truly felt alive.”
I fought the urge to vomit. Anger swelled, hard and vicious. This man had killed my parents, had corrupted Ed.
“And I feel a void now he’s gone,” Dean continued. “But I know just the thing to fill it.”
“Oh?” I prompted.
“Killing you. Killing Ed’s precious pet.”
I tightened my grip on my knife. “You can try.” I launched myself at him. I stabbed my knife through the plastic.
I felt the tip hit him, but the plastic was too thick. I hadn’t done enough damage.
He lunged to the side, then tore the plastic down. He moved faster than I’d anticipated and wrapped the sheet over my head.
I fought against it, but he was bigger and stronger. I’d committed a cardinal sin. I’d attacked in anger.
He shoved me to the floor, his weight on me. He pulled the plastic tight against my face.
Fuck. I flailed. I couldn’t breathe. I fought for air but that just forced the plastic against my lips.
“I wanted to cut you, to watch you bleed, but this will have to do.”
I fought harder. Bastian. He was all I could think about as a wave of dizziness washed over me.
I wanted his arms around me, his body close to mine. He’d showed me warmth, showed me just how good it felt to get close to someone, to feel safe.
Suddenly, Dean’s weight was yanked off me. Frantically, I pushed the plastic off my face and pulled in a lungful of air. Sweet, sweet air.
I rolled and pushed myself free, fighting back my dizziness. I looked up.
A furious Bastian was fighting with Dean.
They traded vicious punches and hard hits. As Dean grunted, Bastian hit him again. A hard knock to his jaw.
“David Thomas Dean.” Bastian’s voice a lethal blade. “We’ve been looking for you.”
“You’ll die, Thorne. Just like her. Your deaths will be my crowning achievement.”
Bastian shot him a scornful look. “Lark and I will bury you in an unmarked grave in the desert. Then we’ll forget about you. Forget you ever existed. No one will remember your name, Dean. You’ll forever be a notation in the CIA files. A washout rogue who couldn’t hack it.”
With a raw growl, Dean attacked Bastian again.
I staggered to my feet, then ran and jumped on Dean’s back.
He growled and spun. I yanked another knife off my belt.
He reared backward, shoving me into a table and I fell. I hit the carpet and rolled into a crouch.
Bastian advanced, his face promising death.
Dean backed up, then turned and ran.
I rose. “Coward! That’s all you are, Dean.”
Near the ballroom door, Dean paused, and reached under his jacket.
Dammit, what now?
He raised a small, compact combat crossbow. Time slowed as he shifted and aimed it directly at me.
Thwack.
I heard the bolt release and time clicked back in. Bastian slammed into me and we crashed to the floor.
Damn, he was heavy. “Bastian?”
He didn’t move. I heard him groan.
I froze. That’s when I felt warm wetness sliding down my neck.
No.
I pushed him off me and rolled him onto his back. The small crossbow bolt was lodged in his shoulder.
“Bastian.”
He groaned again.
Blood. There was so much blood.
I touched the bolt gently. I hadn’t seen the head. I knew that yanking it out could do more damage.
“Least…he hit my other shoulder,” Bastian gritted out. “Not the one you already stabbed.”
“Be quiet.” I heard the pain in his voice, saw the blood pumping out of him. I slipped my shirt off, balled it up, and pressed it around the wound. He groaned again. “Don’t you dare bleed out on me, Bastian Thorne.”
Dammit, my voice was shaky. A part of me had always thought Bastian was invincible.
I patted down his side, then slid my hand into the pocket of his pants.
“I’m not sure now’s the time to be frisky, darling, but I’ll try.”
“Quiet.” I held the phone to his face to unlock it, then scrolled until I found Landon’s name.
“Bastian?” Landon’s deep voice.
“No, it’s Lark. We’re in the ballroom at the Avernus. Bastian was shot with a crossbow. We need your help.”
The doctor cursed. “I’m on my way.”
“Hurry.”
I ended the call.
Bastian stirred. “Put your shirt back on.”
“Can you just lie still and be quiet.” I pushed harder to try and stem the bleeding.
He winced. “Don’t want people seeing you in your bra.”
I shook my head. “Bastian, that’s the least of our problems right now.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Just hold on.”
He raised a hand and touched my lips. “Don’t worry, little bird, I’d never leave you.”
My battered heart really wanted to believe that.